Pawns of Battle
by SoundCheckGravity
Summary: Poland, 1939. The Nazis have struck, and General Niccals manages to get himself into a deadly situation with a Soviet Union general, General Pot. Do good guys really finish last, or will General Pot have the last laugh? I do not own Gorillaz. Thank you.
1. Thunderstorm

Mehr - More  
Lauf - Run  
Rückzug - Retreat  
Kein mehr - No more  
Guten morgen - Good morning

* * *

September 1, 1939. 4:45 AM. Poland.

Flurries of men in green attire were raging the entire city by force; civilians fell like cattle, the masses being devoured under a storm of bullets and bombs. The city was engulfed in flames, flickering into the sky, setting the evening alight with screams of anguish and the purest of agony and shock. Nazis paraded around in tanks and by foot, warheads extended erect into the blazing sky, bringing sheer terror to the people who flocked over the land in fear, resembling baffled seagulls in the midst of a storm.

And what a great storm it was.

A single man stood over it all, his toothy grin green, smelling thickly of alcohol. He was pleasantly enjoying this, the bloodshed, the cries of babies, children, and women being torn to shreds by his soldiers. He adjusted his cap to perfection, watching everything from the safety of the top of a tank, high above the city on a large hill.

"Vat a lovely sight," he said, his German accent thick on his long, slimy tongue. "So beautiful. Zere ist going to be another var. I cannot vait; I love zee sound of death und destruction in zee morning. So glorious." His grin grew wider as he saw a women running in fright, only to be shot down and torn to shreds by the Nazis. "Mehr, mehr! I do not vant it to stop. Lauf, you little pigs. Lauf!" The man's sick laughter shred the sound of the bombings, his head throwing back. However, his joyous cries were cut short as a Nazi ran up, saluted, and explained. "Sir, zee Soviets, zey are attacking! Vat do we do?"

General Murdoc Niccals scowled at this. "Vat do you mean, you swine?" "Zee Soviets are here! Zey heard news of zee attack and were prepared!" Murdoc snarled, stepping off the tank, sending it in to the blazing flames to fight. "Do not stand zere, you fool, get in zere and fight!" However, a lot of the tanks were retreating, fleeing like dogs as the Soviet tanks stormed the area just as fast as the Nazis could leave.

"Rückzug, rückzug! We need to get outta' here! Kein mehr!" The Nazis were running around helplessly, tripping over one another and rushing away. "Idiots!" Murdoc howled, watching the small group flee. "Never come back, ever! You haf shamed us all!" Captain Niccals whirled around, watching his men continue battle with the Soviets, but he clearly was losing now. Murdoc growled, swallowing hard. He turned around at the sound of something rather unpleasant.

Looming up behind him was most likely the largest Soviet tank he had ever seen. Murdoc, for the first time in his life, felt a rush of fear. His knees grew weak, his eyes steely, his face pale. The tank stopped a mere five feet in front of him, and the top was opened. A man's head popped out casually. He was frightening; appearing eyeless, his teal blue hair jutting out like lightening from beneath his hat. The man tapped his riding crop against the side of the tank. "Guten morgen," he said brightly and grinning, stepping from the tank and walking to Murdoc, his smile pleasant. "I am Gen'ral Stuart Pot, but everyone knows me by zee name of 2D. And vat ist your name, Gen'ral?" Sadly, those were the last few words Murdoc heard, before his head received a rather violent blow, and he was knocked into a dizzying world of blackness.


	2. Speak, now

Guten morgen - Good morning  
Kleiner junge - Little boy  
Ich hasse Sie - I hate you  
Reizend - Cute  
Junge - Boy  
Sprechen sie jetzt - Speak, now

* * *

When General Niccals awoke, finally, his vision was blurry and quite disoriented. He groaned, attempting to rub his aching head, when he realized his arms had been disabled; rope. Murdoc gave a low snarl through his obscure teeth, writhing around fretfully. His arms were tied rather heavily behind his back, his legs looped loosely together from the knee to the ankle. He squirmed, wincing at the feeling of a boot on his back, hard, his head yanked up by the throat, a rope digging into his neck.  
"Vell, vell, it seems somevun has finally voken up. Guten morgen, kleiner junge." It was 2D, his foot pressing the man into the floor of the tank, and coiled in his fist was the end of the rope tied rather painfully around Murdoc's neck.  
"Listen you dirty little runt, let me go zis instant or I'll-" Murdoc was cut short by Captain Pot. "Or you'll vat? Cry like zee little boy you are? Go on zen, cry, you baby." 2D's grin broadened and he tugged the rope harder, cutting off Murdoc's vocals. The man gave a voiceless howl of anger and thrashed, but 2D only held him down tighter, raising his riding crop and bringing the leather bit down harshly on Murdoc's backside, the man giving a shrill yelp that managed to be heard through the strangling.  
"Zat 'urts? Vell, too bad. Get used to it, kleiner junge." 2D smirked, finally letting Murdoc go, the man gasping and panting hard, rolling onto his back, his inverted cross slipping down from his chest to just above his shoulder. General Pot leaned down and lifted the cross, running it through his fingers before letting it clatter softly to the metal floor of the tank.  
"Ich hasse Sie," Murdoc snarled, looking over at 2D, his teeth clenched together tightly. 2D only laughed, holding Murdoc's head up with the end of his riding crop. "Really? Vell now, zat's too bad. I was 'oping zat we could be friends." The smiled vanished instantly and 2D spat on Murdoc. "I vill vipe zee floor with your ugly face before I give a damn if you hate me or not, disgusting Nazi svine." Murdoc shuddered faintly, managing to rub the spit from his cheek, sniffing and trying to sit up. He scowled, somehow getting to his feet, his feet just barely able to let him walk.  
In a blur, Murdoc had knocked 2D down, landing on him in his tackle and biting 2D's exposed neck. The General growled slightly, smirking when a few soldiers grabbed Murdoc off him and threw him down, beating the Nazi general with the butts of their guns. Murdoc lay after the torment, exhausted, bleeding from a cut in his lip. 2D couldn't help but laughed, leaning down and grabbing Murdoc by the chin, holding him quite roughly, enjoying the way he feebly squirmed.  
"Reizend," he mocked and wiped the blood from his lips, licking his thumb. Murdoc almost blushed, but he felt more embarrassed than anything. "Filthy faggot! I'll kill you! You'll be on your knees when-" "On my knees? Who ist zee filthy faggot now, Gen'ral?" 2D laughed cruelly and knocked Murdoc away, kicking him aside and going to sit down on one of the benches in the tank. Murdoc could feel all eyes on him as he lay on his stomach, and it was humiliating. He hid his face under his hat, behind his hair and scowled a bit, insulted. What type of general was he, to let himself be kidnapped by a few Jew-loving idiots?

After a few hours, Murdoc had found himself asleep peacefully in the tank, lying on his stomach. However, he was cruelly awoken when 2D grabbed the rope around his throat and tugged. Murdoc gagged hard and coughed a few times, sitting up. "Vat!? Vat zee hell do you vant?" General Niccals received a brutal whip to the face by 2D's crop. He growled, ignoring the searing pain. "Come, junge. Get to your feet und walk." 2D smirked and pulled Murdoc harshly out of the back of the tank, laughing as he fell in the dirt, scraping his already burning cheek. Murdoc tried to get up, but 2D was walking, leaving him to drag helplessly on the ground. After awhile, General Pot grew tired of dragging the Nazi around and gave him time to stand before continuing to walk to what appeared to be a huge base in the Soviet Union. Some soldiers saw Murdoc and laughed, calling him cruel names, mocking his Nazism. Murdoc looked away, almost shamefully, insulted and mad at himself.  
2D hardly noticed, just kept going, Murdoc barely able to keep up with his ankles bound together by only a foot of rope. The Nazi tripped frequently, and 2D kept having to lift him up again. Finally, 2D shoved Murdoc into a barely lit room, letting him fall down.  
"Sprechen sie jetzt, kleiner junge," 2D snarled, his arms folded, his riding crop in one hand. "Your plans for zee next attack on Poland, und your name." Murdoc hissed lowly. "Gen'ral Murdoc Niccals." That was all he said. "Und your name?" 2D said, smirking a bit, thinking he'd won. However, Murdoc fought back, snapping, "I vould never tell you zat. Vat are you, stupid as vell as a Jewish sow?" Murdoc would almost regret saying that. 2D growled, pushing him into a rather uncomfortable chair, tying his arms painfully behind it, twisting them far behind the chair, strapping his legs wide open on the seat.  
"Tell me your name, now, Nazi freak." Murdoc merely spat on 2D's cheek. The general grinned madly and licked it off, a shudder emitting heavily from Murdoc. "Don't vorry zen. Ve have other vays of making you talk…"


	3. Helpless

Bitte, lassen sie mich gehen – Please, let me go.  
Nein, mein reizender kleiner junge – No, my cute little boy.  
Ich werde sie ficken – Fuck you.  
Nein, bitte tut es ich leid – No, please, I'm sorry.  
Mein kleiner junge – My little boy.  
Nein – No.  
Konan – City in Poland.  
Thrun – City in Poland.  
Härter – Harder.  
Bitte – Please.  
Guter junge – Good boy.

* * *

At those words, Murdoc felt and uncomfortable twist in his stomach. He felt himself start to sweat, his breathing picking up a bit. The general was nervous.

"V... Vat are you going to do?" he said, 2D smiling at the tone of his voice. "I am going to break you," 2D whispered darkly, the leather bit of his riding crop rubbing under Murdoc's chin. The man flinched hard; long, spider-like fingers had curled tightly around his groin, squeezing, kneading into his manhood. Murdoc nearly screamed, wanting 2D to get off, but his body didn't. General Pot's touch was better than the lips of any woman that Murdoc had come encounter with.

"Bitte… L…Lassen Sie mich gehen…" Murdoc pleaded, his hands gripping the chair behind him. "Nein… Mein reizender kleiner junge," 2D laughed, his voice dark, testing the Nazi general, who was beginning to lose himself. "I von't… I cannot…" Murdoc writhed and twisted, biting his lip until blood ran down his chin; 2D only licked it off. How could General Niccals allow himself to be touched, let alone subdued by another man? And he was from the Soviet! This was getting far out of control, he needed help. He could always take the easy way out… But betray his ruler? Never. He'd go through hours of this torture if it meant keeping his leader safe.

But this was growing unbearable. Agonizing, even. His erection was throbbing hard, practically busting a hole in his pants, and 2D kept going. When Murdoc began to speak, 2D rubbed and squeezed harder to coax him into it, but the Nazi snarled, "Ich werde Sie ficken!" and spat right in the Soviet's eye. 2D winced and growled, rubbing it out hard. "Fine zen. If zat's how you vant to play, zen zat's how ve vill play." Murdoc winced, knowing he was getting a beating now. "Nein! Bitte tut es ich Leid!" "Oh, you vill be," 2D growled and smirked, releasing Murdoc from the chair, though keeping his arms tied behind him. 2D left Murdoc's legs free so they could hurry along.

It was the dead of night, so 2D was lucky that no one would see him dragging Murdoc along by his rope 'leash'. Murdoc was indeed frightened, trying to keep up with the speedy Soviet general. They entered a dark room and 2D pushed him to the floor, locking the door to keep everyone out. The walls were thick, nearly soundproof, which was even better. 2D turned, glowering down at the Nazi man, writhing in fear, sitting up and trying to say something, but 2D gave him a smack across the face with his riding crop.

"Naughty little Nazi. I vill teach you vhy zee Jews love us." Murdoc shivered, pushing back from 2D, but the man grabbed him again, throwing him down roughly on his own bed; they were in 2D's room, apparently, and Murdoc could not be more humiliated. 2D cooed softly, "Do not vorry, mein Kleiner Junge, I vill take good care ov you und your little… Problem." Murdoc looked up at 2D instantly, his discolored eyes wide in shock, nervousness, excitement…

"Now, hold still," the Soviet whispered into Murdoc's ear, slowly, teasingly unbuttoning his pants, pulling down the zipper and setting free his bulging, pulsing erection. 2D clucked his tongue a few times and shook his head, smiling. "Such a bad little boy." He moved Murdoc's pants to his knees, followed by his undergarments, Murdoc whining at the exposure to cold, squirming in the bonds on his arm. General Pot chuckled lightly, a finger lightly tracing up the vein on the underside of Murdoc's manhood, a choked groan escaping the Nazi's lips. 2D whispered, "Come on, you have to speak now. I von't make any of zis easy for you if you keep being difficult."

"N…Ne…Nein." Murdoc whimpered, practically in tears from the cruel torment. "Suit yourself," 2D said and sighed, his spidery hand gripping the protruding erection, his hand pumping up and down it slowly, lubricating it with Murdoc's own sticky sweat. The man whined, helpless now, writhing and pleading for him to stop. Murdoc was soon in tears, 2D softly kissing them away, laughing casually; he was loving this. The mere sight of a Nazi brought so desperately to his knees was comical. After a rather long time, 2D was thrown off guard by something that Murdoc said.

"Härter," he begged. "Bitte… Härter." 2D only laughed, moving much slower, softer. "Nein, not until you tell me vhere zee Nazis are going to strike next." Murdoc whimpered, gnawing his already bleeding lip harder, whispering, "A few miles North of Konan, near Thrun." 2D smirked. "Guter junge," he said lovingly, kissing Murdoc's bloody lips, sucking the crimson away. He stood up and picked up the phone, messaging the captains. "Next attack; Northern Konan, close to Thrun. Prepare zee troops. I've got zee Gen'ral here vith me. He von't be causing anymore trouble from now on." Murdoc knew he had ruined everything, and once sent back to his leader, he would be killed instantly. He sniffed faintly and frowned; he didn't want to die. However, 2D had crawled back on top of him.

"Don't vorry, my little butler, zee gen'ral vas killed long ago." 2D was grinning. Murdoc shivered; was he going to be 2D's butler? Safe from death and the war? Maybe even get recruited as part of the Soviet?

Good enough. Nothing was worse than death.

However, his thoughts were instantly interrupted when 2D began attending to his erection; with his mouth. Murdoc's head was spinning, his body reeling as he let out a long-restricted moan, 2D's lips and tongue feeling like pure heaven, keeping Murdoc in ecstasy. The once Nazi, now turned butler, writhed and groaned, suddenly feeling a flood of thickness burst through his erection and down 2D's throat. He coughed a bit, bit licked it up off Murdoc's groin, feeling it dribble down his chin.

Murdoc managed to sit up, leaning in and licking it from 2D's chin, whimpering cutely in neediness. This was a distraction. 2D saw his dilemma and smiled, untying his arms gently, rubbing them. However, Murdoc instantly attacked, holding a knife at 2D's throat, scowling.

"Traitor!" 2D snapped, though he was a bit scared. "Damn right I am," Murdoc snapped, holding the knife tighter, raising it.


End file.
